the trials of a new garden
I've been keeping myself busy with work and a new garden. The work was expected. The garden was not.
But it's here, and I can't complain about it at this point. Last week, we purchased about 10 new oleander plants, plus three small bushes to place near the house. Today, we installed new grass on top of the topsoil we also bought. The grand total of all this puts me at 1,300 dollars, which burns me to even type out. But again, the garden was not my call, so who can I complain to?
Besides you, of course.
So I decided I'd make it worth the money and threw myself into digging, planting, watering, measuring. You name it, I did it. I'd like to hope the plants all take. They better, considering my mother is the one who wanted the damn thing installed, and is watching me like a hawk whenever I do anything with the garden.
I watered earlier today. I went through the plants individually, and watered a decent amount to ensure they'd all grow big. The oleander plants are growing bigger by the day. The small bushes? Not so much, and I attribute it to them being planted too close to some cement that could block their ability to grow roots. It was something I pointed out to the gardener who helped me set the plants up, and while I can exchange the plants, I don't want to.
Unfortunately, while doing all of this, including changing the nozzle so I can get the entire lawn better, my mom was groaning and moaning at how I wasn't watering right. How do you not water right? I don't know - she tried showing me the "correct" way, and it was not different than how I was doing it. I left her to take a shower awhile back, and she was staring at the garden silently. I could practically read her thoughts - the damn idiot is going to kill my lawn.
Oh well. I need those sprinklers fixed soon, so she can find something else I do "wrong" to complain about. She hates my cooking, she hates how I clean, she hates how I take care of the cat. Blah blah blah. No where else for me to complain, of course, considering all my relatives stress out the need for patience and understanding for her medical condition. Blah blah blah. Who can I complain to? You, of course.
Hopefully, new pics will be up soon!